


Worship

by ravenclawkohai



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Puppet Cloud Strife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8480860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkohai/pseuds/ravenclawkohai
Summary: Cloud finds the best place to worship Sephiroth: on his knees.





	

               This part was simple enough. This was familiar, comforting almost, a heat and a practiced motion that had never failed to ease his mind and body. It felt easier than breathing to respond to the kiss, a warm slide of tongues, quiet whimpers at bitten lips. The kiss moved from sweet and soft to searing and hard and it was all Cloud could do to focus on the kiss itself. It invaded his thoughts, narrowed his world to a comfortable pinpoint. It left him with his knees weak, fingers curled desperately into Sephiroth’s coat for support, as if the arms locked around his waist would ever drop him.

               And of course the thought was ridiculous: Sephiroth took care of him. He protected him from the outside world, claimed him and kept him, their hidden home safe from those working against him. Even when they did go to fight, there was the constant pressure at the back of his mind, the tweak of the Jenova-cell-string that connected them, as Sephiroth kept a careful eye on him and his safety. Sephiroth took such good care of him, and Cloud had nothing to give in return. He had already given all of himself over (mind, body, soul), given his faith, his trust, his help. Yet somehow it never seemed enough.

               Sephiroth’s hands moved, sliding gently under the fabric of Cloud’s shirt. The touch was careful and coaxing, a sweet glance of glove against skin that raised goosebumps in its wake and sparked shivers through him. Though he did not reach out to stop the slow slide of Sephiroth’s hands against his skin, he did do something he had never had the courage for before.

               He swallowed hard and asked, “Can I try something?” Sephiroth’s hands did not pause in their exploration of long-familiar dips and curves, but he did tilt his head just slightly, a small smile on his lips.

               “What would you like to try?” he countered, reaching down to cup Cloud’s ass in a way he knew was extremely distracting to the blonde who, right on cue, gasped in his arms. Cloud visibly refocused, attempting to remember what was so important that he had stopped kissing Sephiroth in the first place.    “Can it be a surprise?” he asked, Sephiroth’s hands roaming back up to his back, pulling him just a little closer unthinkingly. To Cloud’s surprised, Sephiroth chuckled, the sound warm and doting.

               “If you’d like,” Sephiroth answered, pulling back on his touch, giving Cloud room to maneuver, to step toward whatever he was so interested in attempting.

               Cloud took a deep breath, and then sunk to his knees.

               Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, but did not argue as Cloud (with shaking fingers) worked to free him from his pants.

               What confused him was the act itself. This was nothing new, certainly not anything that justified asking permission. Sephiroth shrugged it off as his puppet feeling particularly needy for approval that day; truly, he was happy to oblige.

               He carded his hand through Cloud’s unruly hair, each swipe delivering more information through their bond, each pass making the picture clearer.

               Cloud had never been particularly good at using their mutual Jenova cells to pass information to Sephiroth. He often did not need to, and Sephiroth’s own vigilance in checking their bond often compensated for Cloud’s lack of proficiency. Compounded with the amplifying factor of touch and Sephiroth’s own attention, it was easy enough to understand what Cloud wanted, what he was truly trying.

               He had no need of being taken care of, he did not need or want to be coddled, but he was happy to accept worship, and if his puppet was so desperate to please that their bond near vibrated with the intensity of it, he would not be one to protest.

               Cloud was focused in a way he never was outside of battle. Sephiroth usually guided (read: took complete control over) this, but Cloud had learned enough. He knew just how to lick the vein underneath, how to swirl his tongue around the head, how to force himself further and further down despite the reflex he had to fight all the while. He had learned how to use his hands best, how to stroke what his mouth couldn’t cover, how to roll his balls just _so_. He knew that he had learned quite a bit in Sephiroth’s tutelage, what he hadn’t realized was quite how good those things felt.

               But all of a sudden, he did.

               Sephiroth reached down, laced his fingers in Cloud’s hair, and did what they were familiar with by now, with only a small twist.  He had been sending Cloud emotions, thoughts, messages across their link for so long now, but he had never before sent a feeling, and certainly not one this strong.

               It was, admittedly, so, _so_ satisfying to watch as Cloud suddenly let out a loud, if muffled, moan and sway, having to stablize himself by putting his hands on Sephiroth’s hips. He immediately pulled away, too overwhelmed to continue.

               “What was that?” Cloud asked, absently wiping his mouth to remove a stray string of saliva. Sephiroth reached down to trace Cloud’s bottom lip with his thumb.

               “What I was feeling,” he explained. Caressing Cloud’s face, he slid his hand up and back into his hair and let what he felt slip across their connection again: all the want, the need, the almost, half-done, incomplete. He watched Cloud shiver at the sudden sensation, and then set himself with all the stubbornness and determination he’d ever shown over the years.

               He leaned forward again, taking a hesitant swipe of his tongue across Sephiroth’s head. He whined and paused, overwhelmed. He let out a breath, short and hard, before refocusing. Sephiroth had no qualms with being worshiped, did not actively want to make things more difficult for Cloud, and yet it was still too much fun to watch him squirm like that, on his knees.

               It took more than a handful of false starts for Cloud to build up a rhythm again and when he did, it was unlike anything they had ever done before. Cloud was positively keening around Sephiroth, the overlap between their feelings almost too much for him to bear.

               What pushed it solidly into the area of too much, what forced him to pull off with a gasp and cling to Sephiroth’s hips for support to not fall over, was the deep, warm feeling of how pleased Sephiroth was. He was doing well, he was serving, worshipping better than expected, going above and beyond; the praise was wordless through the bond, but he could feel the satisfaction, surprised pleasure, that Sephiroth was impressed, clear as day. And that—that made it impossible to hold on.

               “Please,” Cloud whispered, voice a quiet, hitching whine. “Please, can I—”

               “Touch yourself,” the order came, voice quiet and deeper than usual.

               Still on his knees, still inches away from Sephiroth, Cloud hurried to obey. The first stroke felt like walking into the Promised Land. The second felt like a miracle. The third felt like electricity, zinging through his veins. Without thinking, he leaned back on his free arm to support himself, accidentally putting himself on full display. He didn’t even realize until Sephiroth sent the image of the picture he made, mussed and desperate on the floor, right into his own head. He quickly followed it with the sensation of how it felt to watch, to experience the pleasure second hand, to soak it up as an offering served upon the silver platter of his flushed skin.

               The second the image and feeling connected, Cloud moaned loud enough that it was near a scream, back arching. A smug pleasure rippled across the bond at that, quickly followed by hands that gently urged him back to his knees.

               “Finish what you started,” Sephiroth challenged. Cloud groaned and rested his forehead against Sephiroth’s hip, taking a moment to gather himself before returning to the task that had originally brought him to his knees.

               It was like returning to warm home after freezing in snow so long; just as the cold could feel like flame, the pleasure felt damn near like pain. Everything was too much, making every lick and suck sloppy, his shaking hands fumbled, and overall it was perhaps the worst he’d ever done. Yet the sight of him trembling with pleasure at Sephiroth’s feet compensated for poor technique, the pleasure that that brought flooded over and into Cloud as well. In hopes of holding on by more than his fingertips, of surviving this task he had set for himself, he went to put both hands back to work on Sephiroth, only to earn an instant reprimand.

               “I didn’t say you could stop.”

               Cloud whimpered.

               “It was too much, I couldn’t—”

               “You can,” Sephiroth insisted.

               Despite the feeling of hesitancy, Cloud did not pause in following his orders. He reached one hand down to stroke himself again, using his other for balance as he went back to work on Sephiroth. Again, almost within seconds, it came to feel to be too much. Though he struggled to hold out longer, to do the best he could, it still couldn’t have been more than a minute before Cloud pulled away.

               “I’m—” he started to say, before he was immediately cut off.

               “Come,” Sephiroth ordered, and the orgasm tore through him. A scream ripped from his throat, head tossed back as he rode out his climax. It wasn’t until he felt a warm splatter against his chest that he realized Sephiroth had come not long after Cloud had himself. He looked up, eyes hazed over with the intensity of what he had experienced. Sephiroth was looking down at him with a fond smile and bent over to scoop Cloud into his arms.

               “We’ll need to clean you up now, won’t we?” he said as Cloud snuggled down into his arms, head nuzzling against his chest. Sephiroth chuckled at the exhausted look on Cloud’s face. “You did well, puppet.”

               And at the words, Cloud’s world narrowed to Sephiroth alone, awake and stunned. When Sephiroth favored him with a warm smile, Cloud couldn’t help but beam. He had done well enough to be praised. Of all things, that was something to be celebrated.

              


End file.
